Snippets
by blankprofe
Summary: Small episodes between battles. Feel free to request a pair. [first fanfic]
1. Robin & Gaius

Snippets

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><p>Sorting through the reports from the last skirmish, Robin navigated through camp. Though it had just been set up, the constant tread of the Shepherds had created paths that wound through the small city of tents.<p>

The late sun cast a lazy haze as it set, quickly drowning any light. Squinting in vain to read what Henry had scrawled, no doubt a bit of blood mixed in with the ink, Robin blindly walked into another man lost in his own world.

Crashing into each other, the tactician's papers went flying, as did the other's bag of sweets.

"Bubbles, we have got to stop meeting like this."

Even in the fading light, Robin didn't need a clear view at who'd knocked him over to know who it was.

The thief's hand was thrown at him, but Gaius himself was already looking in the other direction, scanning the area for the small satchel he'd dropped.

Grabbing onto the hand offered to him, Robin hauled himself up before quickly snatching the loose leaves of paper scattered across the ground before they blew away.

"Sorry about this." Robin managed between shuffling through papers and stuffing them into his bag.

"No harm no foul. Or at least not until I can find that candy.." Half muttering to himself, Gaius was entirely fixed on finding his lost items.

Stepping back, Robin's heel brushed against a lumpy sack, and sounded with a loud crunch.

Gaius' head popped up, and Robin stopped down to gingerly pick up the now crushed bag of sweets.

Realization dawned on both, and a calm silence fell over the usually buzzing camp.

Awkwardly handing over the bag, Robin mouthed an apology.

"_I'm sorry."_

Wordlessly, Gaius took the bag, patting Robin on the shoulder before handing him a one of the report's he'd missed.

"Think of all the cakes you can make with that sugar. Or." Robin trailed off, vainly trying to make the best of the situation.

"Bubbles. It's fine." Lightly shaking the contents of the bag, Gaius offered him a lopsided grin. "Sugar is sugar. Besides, you can treat me to some sweets the next time we're in town."

Before Robin could answer, Gaius had brushed passed him, making his way to the mess hall.

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><p>Reaching his tent without further incident, Robin tossed his coat onto his cot and began emptying his bag of all the reports he would be sorting through.<p>

Pulling over a chair and positioning himself by a desk, he began pouring over the papers in the dim light of a lantern.

While absent mindedly tossing the rest of his belongings onto the table, his hand reached for the small sack of gold he kept on his belt.

It was gone.

"That thief."


	2. Stahl & Frederick

Snippets – Ch 2

The only thing abnormal about him was how normal he was. He'd tried everything. Haircut? Magically returns to bed head. Improve riding techniques? Everyone improves. Deftest potato peeler? Not a chance.

Leading his horse back in from a routine patrol, Stahl sighed before patting his steed. "Must be rough being stuck with someone as boring as me, huh?"

His horse flicked its ears, more interested in the oats in the stall than in Stahl's woes.

Leaving the horse behind, he headed towards the weapons tent to return the lance he was carrying. The spearhead was a loose, and while he had the time, he might as well fix it.

"That way I won't be entirely useless."

Pushing aside the canvas flap, Stahl found Frederick, already busying himself over the point of a sword.

"Good evening." The knight captain greeted.

Stahl offered a wave back, hoping that the other hadn't heard his monologue.

But of course, Frederick had.

"So what's this about being useless? You aren't shirking on any of your duties are you?"

Settling down on a crate on the opposite end of the tent, Stahl let out a nervous laugh. "Of course not. I'd never. I mean, after the years of training you gave me?" Years of training that beat a work ethic into his soul so severely that Stahl still spent free time checking over weapons on provisions for the next campaign.

Laying the spear across his knees, Stahl propped his face on one hand before continuing to ramble. "It's just, everyone's so spectacular and amazing and then there's me. What can I do? I'm completely ordinary. I can't throw fire or heal anyone. I mean I used Chrom's sword to chop some vegetables once but that's beside the point."

Realizing that he'd spilled his concerns on someone who might not even be interested in hearing them, Stahl quickly apologized. "You can forget I said any of that. Sorry about this." He returned his attention to the spear, expecting that the two of them would work in silence.

Through it all, Frederick had listened quietly, seeming to be more absorbed in his work than in the other knight. When the sword was at his desired sharpness, Frederick laid it aside before addressing Stahl.

"I wouldn't worry so much as to compare yourself to others. I've taught you to the best of my abilities, and you've turned out to be a fine knight. Regardless of what you may think of yourself, you are an invaluable member of this army."

Frederick stated as a matter of fact, leaving no room for argument.

Stunned, Stahl tried to protest, but Frederick rose, and strode over to him.

"Don't. Sell yourself short."

With these parting words, the captain left, leaving Stahl with just a bit more confidence than he had before.


	3. Inigo & Laurent

The cold rain splattered against the cobbled ground of the now empty village. His last few maneuvers hadn't been the best, and Inigo found himself alone.

Dashing towards the village center, he sought an open space to fight the Risen who'd trailed him. A low metallic ring signaled an impending blow, and Inigo quickly raised his sword to keep the blade from striking him.

Spinning to meet the Risen, he parried the ax away, ducking under his enemy's next swing and dispatching it with a clean cut through its chest.

As the Risen vanished in a cloud of dark smoke, Inigo failed to notice a second unit charging towards him.

Side stepping a moment too late, the Risen's sword grazed his arm, knocking his weapon out of his hand. Before he could dive for it, the Risen took another slash at him, driving Inigo back.

Without a weapon to defend himself, Inigo grimaced at his prospects. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep fight off the rising sense of dread. If he was going to die, he wasn't going to die crying.

He watched as the sword was raised against him, seeing his own blurry reflection in the dull metal. And then a steadily glowing blaze lighting the blade.

Glancing back, he saw a large ball of fire hurtling towards him. Praying that the elfire was meant for the Risen and not for him, Inigo ducked.

A large explosion blasted him backwards, knocking him against the rain slicked streets. Black.

...

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><p>A groan escaped his lips as he struggled to move. "<em>Oh gods I'm dead."<em>

"You aren't dead. A poor conclusion, but a reasonable one considering what you've been through."

A hand pushed him back down, and Inigo blinked his eyes in an attempt to figure out where he was. In the dim light, he saw a figure peering over him.

"Ah, pray, tell me you're a lovely lady that saw my heroic battle?"

"Inigo. Please tell me that explosion didn't leave you blind."

His eyes adjusted, and Inigo just barely made out a faint glare from a familiar pair of glasses.

"Laurent. Incredible."

Ignoring the other's sarcasm, Laurent pulled a sweet tincture from his robes. Removing the stopper, he offered the bottle to Inigo. "It's a minor wound, and this should be enough until we can find a healer."

Nodding in thanks, he allowed to other to help him into a sitting position before downing the potion. The effects were immediate, and Inigo could feel the pain from the cut fade.

"You'll have to excuse any ill affects you may have suffered from the blast. It's admittedly more difficult to aim in the rain than I expected." Polishing his glasses, Laurent offered a shrug of apology.

"Not to worry. A little fire never hurt anyone."

A comfortable silence settled over the abandoned house, the steady beat of the rain plinking on the roof. Laurent pulled out a tome and idly flipped through the pages, attempting to pass the time.

"But thank you Laurent." It wasn't the first time Inigo had barely scraped by with the mage's help. Battles waged in the future often saw the two relying on each other on the field.

"Hm." Barely looking up from the pages, Laurent continued to leisurely study the spells. "Think nothing of it. Just rest for now."

Inigo took the other's advice, lying back down and closing his eyes, trusting the other to watch over them for the time being.


	4. Robin & Libra

A throbbing headache. Hazy memories. What was his name again?

"Oh gods please don't tell me I'm in another field." Groaning, Robin struggled to sit up, a dull ache pounding through his head.

"No friend, just a hangover. You're in camp right now." Helping the tactician up, Libra offered him a glass of water, which Robin gratefully downed.

"Thank you Libra."

"Glad to be a service." Taking the empty glass back, the monk placed it on a nearby table. Pulling up a chair, he sat down before addressing the other again. "But are you alright? You looked a bit ill when I found you."

Racking his brains, Robin found that he couldn't remember anything, until the scent of alcohol began wafting from his shirt. Whatever he'd been doing, he'd managed to spill and entire glass of spirit on himself while he was doing it. He searched Libra's face for an explanation.

"It seems Gregor finally managed to keep his word."

"His word..?" Robin and the sell sword didn't talk much, and he couldn't remember striking a deal with him.

"In his words, he drank you under the table."

"I, he what?"

Smiling, Libra propped his chin and his hand before recalling the events of the night before. "It went well for the first few rounds. But after that you insisted you could hold your own and tried to keep pace with Gregor you lost all sense of reason."

Mortified, the tactician rubbed the bridge of his nose and mentally calculated the number of years he'd probably lost to drinking. "I didn't do anything stupid, did I?" He ventured to ask, but didn't want an actual answer.

Unfortunately, Libra did have one. "Before you fell over you promised to pay for everyone's drinks if you lost."

Closing his eyes, Robin lay back down on the cot. "Brilliant."

"But on the bright side it seems Gaius was kind enough to foot the bill."

Sighing deeply, the tactician didn't bother to mention that the thief had stolen his money a few days prior.

Not noticing the despair Robin was sorting through, Libra continued to fill him in. "Lord Chrom attempted to help you up, but after saying something along the lines of 'there are better places to take a nap than on the ground' he started laughing and almost fell over. Sir Frederick gathered him and they retired for the night."

Stifling a laugh, Robin had no trouble creating a mental image of the knight lugging Chrom to his tent, bent on keeping his charge from further trouble.

"Around then I noticed you on the floor and took you back to camp. Though, you say quite a bit when you're intoxicated."

His laugh dying in his throat, Robin chanced a glance at Libra, who was studying him with a look of mild interest. "I. Oh gods. I'm sorry?"

"No harm. You insisted I had unbelievably soft hair before crying yourself to sleep. No need for apologies."

Feeling his cheeks heating up, Robin quickly flipped himself to face the canvas of the tent. Unable to find a way to answer the monk, the tactician settled for a sigh of defeat.

Smiling, though the other couldn't see it, Libra gathered the staff propped against the end of the table and made to leave. "Rest Robin."

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><p>AN: So if anyone wants to request characters or a scenario or something that would be great. My brother's picking random numbers for me right now.<p>

Thanks for reading!


	5. Gerome & Noire

Fresh from the medic's tent, Noire crept her way to the mess hall, set on reaching it without any fuss. However, luck was not on her side. As she peered around a final bend, a friendly arm slung itself across her shoulders. Holding back a gasp, she jumped slightly at the sudden touch.

"Ho Noire! Good to see you up and moving!" Owain's overly enthusiastic greeting was unexpected, and she offered a weak smile in reply. But before she could ask him to let her go, Severa brushed by, yanking Owain away with her.

"Gawds, can't you see you're bothering her?" Tugging the loudly complaining swordsman after her, she offered Noire a smile as she passed. Noire raised a hand gratefully, and joined the rest of the children as they gathered at the mess.

They scattered into groups, the Justice Cabal commandeering one corner while the others occupied the seats around them. Looking for a quieter area, Noire scanned the tables and decided that Brady and Gerome would be the calmest.

Picking up something to eat, she joined the two, Brady giving her a small nod and Gerome the slightest tilt of his head. Sliding into the bench opposite of them, she picked at her food, listening to the small explosions of conversation erupting from the other side of the room.

Fidgeting, she considered talking to her tablemates before Brady broke in. "So how's the wound treating ya? I think I patched ya up pretty well."

"Oh, yes. I'm feeling much better now, thank you." She ran a hand over the arm that had taken a hit, wind magic that had left a large red gash against her otherwise unmarred skin.

Brady ran a look over her forearm, half considering to ask to check the cut once more. He was about to ask when Severa and Owain started a shouting match, neither willing to back down. Sighing, he got up to break them up before an actual fight ensued, which would mean more healing for him.

Left with Gerome, Noire glanced at the masked rider, whose expression was unreadable under his mask. Unsure if she should strike a conversation, she poked at a pile of potatoes on her plate, moving the mash from one end to the other.

"No appetite?"

Surprised that the other had spoken first, she almost dropped her fork. "Not much. Just got discharged, so I guess I'm building it back up right now." A gap of silence fell, and convinced that the conversation would end at that, she returned to her food, idly taking small bites from it now and then.

Gerome cleared his throat, slightly adjusting his mask. "You have my thanks."

Blinking, Noire tilted her head. "Me?"

Meeting her eyes, he nodded. "For taking out that mage. You distracted him. But I wasn't quick enough to finish him off before he got to you." Gesturing to her bandaged arm, he offered an unworded apology.

Shaking her head, Noire smiled. "Don't mention it. We're all here to look out for each other, right?"

Gerome seemed about to argue, before he settled for a grunt. The two returned to their own devices, finding peace in each other's company.

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><p>AN: Feel free to send in more characters! I think updates will be faster if I have something to work off instead of me just antagonizing over an rng.<p>

Guest: I did a quick search and it looks like there's almost nothing tagged with Gerome and Noire. I hope this was somewhat acceptable?


	6. Stahl & Cherche

Chapter 6

Carefully treading through the snow, Stahl tried to keep his footsteps from crunching audibly against the frozen powder. Breathing out, he watched as his breath turned to smoke in the winter air. Surveying the picturesque forest, he looked for any signs of an animal that was braving the weather to venture outside.

A small hunting party had been dispatched to add to the camp's stock of food, and seeing how much he ate, Stahl had volunteered to be part of it. The hunt also gave him an excuse to test out his bowmanship. Virion's advice on his technique had helped, and Stahl was eager to see how much he'd improved.

Opting out of wearing his usual armor, Stahl wore clothes more suitable for sneaking through the woods. Knee high boots and light pants, coupled with a forest green tunic. To help blend in with the scenery, and to keep himself warm, a pale cloak was draped around his shoulders. He impatiently flicked the cloak aside as he drew an arrow from quiver slung across his back.

Drawing the bowstring, Stahl knocked an arrow, ready to let it fly at the first thing he saw. A slight movement caught his attention and as a twig cracked, he quickly spun around and found the point of his arrow aimed at Cherche's face.

Gasping, he lowered the weapon and burst out an apology. "Oh gods, Cherche forgive me. I didn't mean to, I could have skewered you. Oh gods."

Laughing, Cherche offered Stahl an easy smile. "I think I should be apologizing. Sneaking up on a hunter like I did. But it's lucky that Minerva wasn't around. She would have been upset."

Chuckling nervously, Stahl internally thanked whatever deity had averted that crisis, and tucked the arrow back into the pouch. "But what brings you over? I thought the group split up to cover more ground."

"Sir Frederick managed to catch a bear, though he didn't seem too pleased about it. But he thinks that kill should be enough to stay the camp." Tilting her head towards the general direction of camp, she offered her hand to him. "Time to head back."

Nodding, he took her gloved hand in his and began the trek back. They admired the scenery in silence, the only sound marking their journey the beating wings of birds who took flight was the pair passed beneath the trees.

Walking by a frozen bank, snow drifts piled by the shores, Stahl noted that they were still a ways from the camp. Apparently he'd traveled a bit farther into the woods than he'd imagined. Mulling over his own thoughts, he didn't hear the initial crack. It was only when on foot broke the surface of the ice did Stahl realize he was falling into the icy river. Letting go of Cherche's hand, he did his best to shove her away from the patch of ice. But no sooner had his chest gone level with the water did he find that Cherche had grabbed onto his arms and was struggling to drag him to the surface. The slick ice was doing nothing to help her, and with every step she scrambled backwards, she lost twice as much ground.

"Let me go!" He was terrified of getting sucked into the churning water, but didn't want the same fate for Cherche. "Please, get out of here!"

Gritting her teeth, Cherche ignored his pleas. "I'm not leaving you!" She desperately looked behind her, searching for a solution. As risky as it was, she pulled out a small silver axe and lodged it into the ice, a solid thud resounding on impact. Praying that it would hold, she lay down on the ice, and used her free arm to slowly tug Stahl out of the water.

Their progress was slow and difficult, and after what seemed like hours, Stahl managed to haul himself onto solid ground.

Gasping from the cold and shock, he threw off his sopping cloak, half thanking Cherche for saving him and doing his best not to yell at her for risking her life for him. She wiped the freezing water from his face, constantly telling him it was fine, they were fine.

She covered him in her own cloak, brushing off his protests and doing her best to keep him warm. She was saved from the worry of figuring out how to get them both back to camp when Frederick galloped into view, his steed managing to navigate the snow with little problem.

"I heard calls for help, are you unharmed?" But glancing at Stahl, he answered his own question. Getting off his horse, he tossed Stahl on the saddle, much to the other's embarrassment.

"I'm fine, I can get on a horse myself." Stahl grasped the reins with his trembling hands, fighting off the shivers coursing through his body and doing his best to glare at his superior.

Rolling her eyes, Cherche took the reins from him. "We're okay. Thank you for showing up Sir Frederick. And if you don't mind, I can lead us back to camp."

Nodding, Frederick wished them a safe trip back, adding that he would meet them back at base once he gathered the rest of the hunting party. Offering Cherche his cloak, he set off.

Alone again, Cherche tugged at the reins, setting a steady pace. They made quick progress, and soon they were back at camp. Calling for a medic, Cherche dropped Stahl off at the nearest medical tent, gently removing his wet clothes and helping him dry off. The medic present confirmed that with rest and warmth Stahl would be fine.

After wrapping him in blankets, Cherche promised to return with hot food. Stahl made a muffled reply, which Cherche assumed was a yes.

Minutes later she returned, and softly called out. "Stahl? Are you still awake?" She was greeted with silence. A glance at his face showed that he was not, and setting the food aside, Cherche stood by his resting form, gently brushing aside a stray lock of his hair. Smiling, she pressed her lips against his temple.

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><p>AN: Looking back, chapter 3, 4 and 5 were all 597 words long. Weird. Anyways, thank you for reading and feel free to request a pair or scenario!<p>

xXEndlessSkyXx: I think the pacing feel apart towards the end, but I hope it's alright. Stahl's one of my favorites too, and I'm glad you've liked the chapters so far!

Guest: It was fun writing it! ^^ If you have any other interactions shoot me a message!


	7. Frederick & Gerome

Swinging his axe, Gerome grunted as the blade made contact against the sparring block with a heavy thud. The metal buried itself solidly into the wood, and only after he braced one arm on the block was he able to pry it back out. Taking a few steps back, he spun the weapon with practiced ease, the handle of the axe rolling over his knuckles before returning to his palm.

Shifting his weight, he swung the blade again, this time breaking through the damaged wood. Axe scraping against the dirt of the training grounds, Gerome let the momentum carry him, the axe stopping gracefully at his feet.

Breathing through his nose, it wasn't until a few moments later that he realized that another person had entered the ring. "Show yourself." Turning, he leveled his weapon with the newcomer, intent on showing them that their presence was unwelcome.

Hands clasped behind his back, Frederick eyes the axe pointed at him. His expression hardly changed, "Excellent technique." He eyed his son, seeming to be weighing his next action. Stepping past the blade, the knight lightly kicked Gerome's foot, adjusting his stance. "Though I would advise you keep more solid footing." He circled towards the cleaved sparring block, running a hand over the cleanly cut surface.

Glaring through his mask, Gerome shifted his weight, testing out the improved pose. He couldn't deny that the simple change had done scores to refine his stance. "Thank you Fath- Frederick."

The knight raised his eyebrow. "You need not force yourself to call me Father if it troubles you." He had the smallest trace of a smile on his face. "Though I believed that we had established that we were family already."

Gerome ground his teeth, turning towards another target on the side of the arena. His back to Frederick to hide his embarrassment, Gerome swung at the block, the satisfying crack of wood splitting through the grounds. "We have." Tearing the axe from the block, he swung again.

Tsking, Frederick watched as his son took another wild swing at the block. "You won't cut down any Risen like that." He approached the other, wordlessly asking for permission to help. When Gerome didn't protest, Frederick quickly adjusted the rider's grip on the weapon, making minute fixes.

"It seems that your style favors that of your mother's. Though, I see a bit of a Ylissean influence if I'm not mistaken." Stepping back, he motioned for Gerome to take another strike at the target.

Nodding, Gerome made a quick approach, making a quick strike and breaking the block. Satisfied, he let the axe rest against the ground, leaning his weight on it before addressing the knight. "In my time you trained me. But you disappeared before I could learn much. From there mother trained me."

The weight of Gerome's words rested heavily on Frederick. Though the other put up the image of indifference and strength, Frederick knew that Gerome no doubt struggled to accept him as a member of his family. Losing a loved one once was bad enough, but allowing an opportunity for it to happen again was almost too much. Steeling himself, Frederick vowed to fill the void his alternate self had left behind. "Let me make up for lost time. Perhaps this time I can give you the strength to change the course of events."

Gerome hesitated for only a moment before giving a curt nod. This time he would be stronger. For both his sake, the future's sake and for his father.

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><p>AN: School's been kicking my butt and I'm barely a week in. Sorry for the lack of updates! And thank you for the reviews! The feedback and suggestions make it 1000 times easier to get a doc started. I'm always up for requests, spending a bit of time writing is a nice distraction.<p>

Guest Star B: I think Gerome and Frederick's support is the one that Gerome shares with all of his potential dads. Maybe this was alright?

smileplease91: I just need more Stahl supports. More supports in general. :') Omg no tears. Be strong friend. Or I'll start crying too haha.


	8. Robin & Emmeryn

Chapter

The Exalt wasn't someone that Robin saw regularly. He occasionally saw her as he crated books and notes from one end of the palace to the other, glimpsing her as she glided from meeting to meeting. From their few interactions the tactician had gathered that Emmeryn was truly as gentle and kind as the rumors said. With dignified ease she moved through her court, dealing with matters and settling them in the most peaceful way possible.

Quite a contrast to his own usual methods. Most of which involved tactics that left the enemy in shambles, most of the opposition dead or dispersed. Though Emmeryn's and Chrom's methods of operation were different, both strove for peace. And unfortunately, Emmeryn never was given a chance to put her ideology into action at full force.

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><p>"Your Grace?" Robin called out softly to the occupant of the tent, though he expected no answer. In the days that had passed since the Shepherds had found the lost Exalt, Emmeryn had said little. And what little she did said were simply broken sentences, more questions than anything. Pushing aside the canvas flap, Robin excused himself as he let himself in. With him was a small tray of food. Chrom was still beside himself in grief and couldn't yet bear to see his sister, and Lissa wept at the mere mention of Emmeryn's name. And so they insisted that he, at least for a while, take care of her for them.<p>

Emmeryn sat on a chair piled with cushions, the most comfortable they could make while still on the road. From her seat, she raised her head, eyes locking with the tacticians. For a moment, Robin thought that he was staring back at the woman once brimming with grace and confidence. But the slightly dazed look in her eyes ruined the illusion.

Smiling, Robin placed the tray on the table. "How's it going today, Your Grace?"

A look of confusion crossed Emmeryn's face. "Where...we...going?"

Sliding into the seat next to her, he shook his head. "No, it's...It's just an expression. It means "how are you feeling?"

She blinked, weighing the thought before answering. "I...am well..."

"That's wonderful! Truly it is! If there's anything I can do for you, please don't hesitate to ask." Any answer was a good answer. Perhaps if he kept talking to her, he could help her regain some of her memory. Whether it be prompting her to remember or filling in the blanks himself.

She was slightly taken aback by Robin's slew of words, searching for a way to answer.

Robin continued. "I could tell you all about what happened before you returned." The details of Emmeryn's disappearance and her return were shrouded in mystery. But he could tell her what the rest of the company had been faring for the past months.

She tilted her head slightly. "Before I...returned?"

"Right! Chrom defeated Gangrel and then stopped a huge Valmese invasion! It hasn't been a field of roses, but Chrom strives for peace in his own way. He's keeping your dream alive." Robin was unsure if Emmeryn remembered much about her brother. The least he could do was try to jog her memory. Or build a base for her to begin with. "Your brother is a fine ruler, and his people love him. I know you'd be proud of that. Hopefully you can tell him one day."

"Chrom.." Emmeryn tested the name. Looking for some sort of familiarity, but finding none.

The troubled look on her face gave away as much, and Robin reassured her. "Oh, but no rush, of course. There'll be plenty of time once more of your memory returns."

She nodded. "Y-yes... My memory." Emmeryn fidgeted, absentmindedly fiddling with a loose thread on one of the many plush cushions.

Robin gently prompted. "I think it would mean a lot to him to hear it."

Emmeryn looked back up, meeting Robin's gaze. "Mean...lot...to him? ...Or you?"

Not expecting the question, or the intense looks in her eyes, Robin paused before stuttering out. "W-well, yes. I suppose it would mean something to me as well."

His answer was enough, and looking back at the loose threads of the cushions, Emmeryn breathed out. "All...right."

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><p>AN: the script is lifted from their support so nothing special<p>

me dio: I couldn't remember if Robin and Emmeryn had any non support interaction.


	9. Inigo & Robin

Looking from stall to stall, Inigo perused the items lining the carts. The vendors of the town they were currently passing through had enough wares to rival those of Anna, but he had yet to find anything that caught his eye.

The rest of the Shepherds were resting back at camp, having fought off the Risen roaming the limits of the town. Inigo had taken the time to visit the marketplace, both to take note of any supplies that the company might need to purchase, and to buy Robin a gift.

The tactician had always outdone herself, winning their battles for them and making sure that they all got out alive. The least he could do for her was surprise her with a small token of his gratitude.

As he continued to wander the bustling marketplace, he absentmindedly twisted the silver band on his ring finger. He figured that their matching rings were about as much jewelry as they needed while they were on the road. Perhaps something more practical?

Cosmetics? Robin didn't strike him as the type to worry too much about appearances while they were on a campaign. Sweets? No, Gaius would probably manage to filch the treats before he made it to her tent.

He lingered by a stall piled high with books. "No, she's probably already read all of these." But he hesitated. It wouldn't hurt to look at them. Picking up one of the tomes, he was mildly surprised at how light it was. Turning it over in his hands, Inigo ran a finger over the pages, and found them all stuck together.

"Curious." He opened the book, and saw that the inside was hollowed out. He briefly imagined Robin's horrified look if she had discovered the vandalized tome and a small laugh escaped him. "Perfect."

* * *

><p>"For me?" Robin looked at the tome Inigo had handed to her with surprise.<p>

Smiling, Inigo rocked back on his heels and pulled out a bouquet of flowers, offering them to her with a flourish and a bow.

Giggling, Robin, took the flowers and delicately sniffed them. Tucking them in the crook of her elbow, she drummed her fingers against the book. "What might the occasion be?"

"Oh, just reminding you of my undying love." Winking, he took her free hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles.

Rolling her eyes, Robin couldn't keep the growing smile off her face. Inigo always did know how to spoil her. And as businesslike as she liked to be, she always enjoyed the attention and distraction Inigo brought.

"It's a bit frivolous, but I think it suits you." Inigo flicked his eyes from the tome to her face, expectantly waiting for her to open the gift.

Raising an eyebrow, Robin opened the book. Nestled inside the tome was a small silver comb, gilded with twisting wreaths of gold. Gasping, she plucked it out, admiring the object.

"It's pretty, and functional. Not unlike a lovely lady I know."

Robin weakly punched Inigo before wrapping her arms around him. Instead of answering, she settled with burying her face in his chest, hoping that she could convey her thanks.

Returning her embrace, Inigo lightly cupped Robin's face, tilting it up slightly to place a kiss on her forehead.

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><p>AN: I think that's two chapters where it ends with a forehead kiss. Whoops.<p>

59: Laurent needs more love in general. Also, all ships are good ships, you know? And thank you! I'm really glad that think so. c:


	10. Robin & Sumia

"That should do it for the flour." Wiping her hand across her brow, Sumia smiled at Robin before handing the bowl to him. "Mix?"

Robin stopped himself from laughing when he noticed that the pegasus knight had drawn a streak of powder on her face. But he figured he looked just as ridiculous. He'd agreed to help her test her baking skills, this time on a batch of cookies. Currently borrowing a ridiculously frilly apron, the tactician consoled himself with the thought of the treats that he would eventually get to eat.

Taking the bowl of dry goods, he dumped the contents into his own bowl, a mix of butter and sugar that Sumia had carefully measured out. He realized his misstep a second too late when a cloud of powder flew up and thoroughly covered his face. Blinking, he waved the stray puffs from his face, coughing as he did.

Stifling a giggle, Sumia got to work preparing a second bowl of ingredients. She tossed him a towel to brush himself off before busying herself again.

Sighing, Robin caught the rag and quickly wiped his face. "Sumia these cookies better be fantastic." Grumbling, he mixed the ingredients together, daring the flour to fly at his face again.

"I'd think so! Gaius gave the recipe to me, so it should be good. Or at least very sweet." Watching as Robin furiously mixed his own batch, Sumia carefully prepared her own, adding in two cups of fine white sugar. The grains made a pleasant tinkling sound as they hit the side of the bowl, and for a moment she briefly wondered if the thief's recipe called for a bit too much sugar. Casting the thought aside, she cracked an egg and added it to the mix. She could always adjust the measurements later. Stirring the contents, she waited for the ingredients to combine properly.

"Done." Setting the bowl down with a thud, Robin awaited Sumia's instructions.

"Alright, so we just roll out the dough and cut out some shapes. Easy, right?" Tossing her own dough onto the counter, she easily rolled the mix out. Robin followed suit, carefully mimicking her movements.

Taking out a few cookie cutters, the pair methodically cut out scores of cookies. Before long, the two had completed their batches and tossed them in the oven.

Nodding at their handiwork, Sumia brushed off her hands. "Not bad master tactician."

"That's grandmaster tactician to you." Robin snipped back, a friendly grin on his face.

Rolling her eyes, Sumia found a pair of oven mitts and carefully peered into the oven. "Gaius said that the cookies should be done in a few minutes." Oven the oven door to check the progress of the baked goods, she noted that the cookies were indeed already rising. "And it looks like he was right. I think they're done."

Pulling open the door, she transferred the trays from racks to counter. With that done, she tossed the mitts aside, admiring the dozens of treats now filling the kitchen with a honeyed scent. Hardly waiting for them to cool, Sumia took one of the cookies, blowing on it briefly to cool it off.

Sumia took a bite of one of the cookies, the crisp edges giving way to a soft core. "It's delicious! Robin, you need to try these." Offering a tray with the cookies that she'd created to the tactician, she nearly bounced in excitement.

Taking one of the offered treats, Robin bit in, expecting a warm rush of sugary delight. Instead he bit into what he could only describe as a rock. Despite the light golden exterior, the cookie was undoubtedly solid. He held the cookie out for a moment, Sumia and he both staring at the object with mild apprehension.

"What sorcery is this." Looking from Sumia, then back to the innocent confection he raised an eyebrow.

"Ah.. I think I might have added salt instead of sugar." The knight's cheeks slowly turned a shade of pink.

Rubbing his chin, Robin placed the cookie back on the tray. A mildly malicious thought entered his mind, and it only took a split second before he formed a plan. "I think we should send some Gaius' way. He still hasn't paid me back."

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><p>AN: Robin is a vengeful man. He still wants the gold Gaius stole back in chapter 1.<p>

Ickypicky892: I swear I'll get to your request. Just thinking of a prompt!

Sarge688: Here's your request! I hope it's alright haha. I think the pacing's a bit off tho.

smileplease91: Is this what they call "_fluff._"

NotSoGreatGamerGirl: Cute ships call for cute situations. :D


	11. Robin & Henry

Cracking her eyes open, Robin struggled to take in her surroundings in the dying light of dusk. Her back was against the rough bark of a tree, and a weight kept her from getting up. In confusion, she shifted, only succeeding in sending a sharp pain through her side. Gasping, she reached for the source of the pain, and after pressing against her side felt warm blood seeping through her coat.

Shaking, she took a deep breath, bunching her hands into fists. As she did, Robin finally noticed her left hand was clutching someone else's. Curled up beside her was Henry. Even in the poor light, there was no mistaking his pale hair and dark robes.

"Henry?" Robin whispered his name, fearing that she wouldn't get an answer. The mage was splattered in blood, and Robin prayed that it wasn't his own. Rolling him to his back, she carefully ran a hand over him, checking for wounds. All the while, she kept her hand locked in his, her grip slowly tightening in panic.

"-an't feel my hand."

Snapping her head towards his face, Robin scooted closer, ignoring her body protesting against the movement. "Henry, Henry can you hear me?"

The mage laughed weakly before breaking into a cough. "Loud and clear. But did you hear me? I can't really feel my hand."

Robin quickly let go, nervously rubbing her hands together before apologizing.

"Awh Robin, don't sweat it! It's better than being able to feel everything else. My head is killing me!" Henry tried to laugh, but quickly broke into another a coughing fit. He could taste the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. Not something he had to tell Robin right now.

Patting the insides of her coat, Robin looked for a potion or a tincture, anything to help the mage. She came up empty. Sighing, she shifted her weight to her arms and dragged herself closer to Henry's head. Crossing her legs, she carefully positioned herself before laying his head on her lap. Henry didn't protest, and Robin leaned back against the tree, hoping that he was a bit more comfortable. "What happened?"

"Hm?" Henry tilted his face back, meeting Robin's eyes. He blinked slowly, as if weighing the question. "Business as usual. You took as nasty hit though. But I paid them back for you." Gesturing vaguely at a line of bushes, Henry pointed towards their fallen enemies before letting his arm drop with a thud. "Plenty of blood, it was fun! Me getting these ouchies? Not so much."

Brushing back his hair, Robin absentmindedly tried to soothe his pain, not sure if coddling would do any good. But to her surprise, Henry reached for her hand before dragging it down to his chest. She could feel his rapidly beating heart.

"And they say you had the lowest heart rate in the company." She teasingly said.

Smiling, Henry quipped back. "Blood pressure actually. But whenever I'm with you I can feel it rising."

"Now's not the time Henry." Even as she scolded him, Robin could feel her cheeks heating up. She thanked the dark for hiding her blush. "If you're going to do this it better be done properly."

Squeezing her hand, Henry ran his thumb over her palm. "Gotcha! When we get back to camp the wooing will commence."

Biting back a smile, Robin used her free hand to gently run her fingers through the mage's hair, breathing in time to his steadily beating heart.

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><p>AN: Requested by Ickypicky892! I wasn't sure if you wanted male mu or female mu, so I went with lady Robin because I don't think I've written anything with her yet.<p>

Flirting is best done when half dead and still dying. Thank you for reading and leaving reviews! I'm happy that people seem to like the chapters so far, and I hope that I'm not disappointing anyone who sent in a request.


	12. Gregor & Basilio

"HEY! Gregor don't pretend you can't hear me!" Catching up to the mercenary, Basilio threw an arm around his neck, forcing the other man to talk to him. "Just the man I was looking for!"

Gregor was dragged down slightly by the exuberant greeting, but otherwise didn't break stride. "Ah, Gregor was not expecting to see West Khan in blue blood's army. He is sellsword now?"

Laughing, Basilio threw back his head. "Ha! No, just lending some strength." Thumping the other's back, he continued. "But I was looking for you, sellsword. Up to take me on in a rematch?"

Rubbing his chin, Gregor tried to remember the last time they had fought. But he couldn't pinpoint an exact date, seeing as he'd fought so many. Shrugging, he went for his default answer. "Gregor only unsheathes sword when much gold is being offered. Besides, Khan is comrade?"

Rolling his eye, Basilio snorted. "A drinking contest. I already know we're fairly matched, though I could probably win without contest this time around."

Ignoring the stab at his skills, he took his own punch as the Khan. "Gregor is thinking that a man your age shouldn't try to challenge others to drinking competitions."

Stopping in his tracks, Basilio took a sharp turn, steering the mercenary away from camp and towards the town they were stationed by. "Well that wasn't a no, and it sure wasn't a compliment. Don't think you can get away with harping at my age, telling me I can't drink and live to tell the tale."

Grinning, Gregor threw his arm across the other shoulders. A drink would be a nice change of pace. And finding someone who could match him keg for keg wasn't something that he came across every day. "Loser will be paying?"

Basilio smirked, mentally calculating the tab the two were about to ring up. "Get ready to go into debt."

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><p>AN: Request for Scion of Clan BattleHammer.<p> 


	13. Nowi & Ricken

Swinging his legs back and forth, Ricken pulled out a handful of grain he'd nicked from the stables and offered it to a pudgy bird perching on his gloved hand. The bird cocked it head back and forth before hopping to the hand topped with food, pecking at it while tittering happily.

Smiling, Ricken cooed at the little bird, a bit concerned that his feathered friend had gained so much weight because of him. "Any more of this and you'll get to be my size."

The bird raised its head for a moment before going back to eating, unconcerned with the extra oomph it had thanks to the mage.

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><p>Perched in a tree just above the log Ricken was sitting on, Nowi watched the short mage talk to the bird. Swinging her legs back and forth in time to Ricken, she rested her chin in her hands and wondered how long it would take for him to notice she was there. The bird suddenly paused before leaping off Ricken's hand and flying off.<p>

Time to make her entrance. Hopping down from the branch, she landed solidly next to Ricken, tipping the brim of his oversized hat as she did, and took a seat next to him. She offered a cheery greeting. "Hey Ricken!"

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><p>Ricken nearly jumped out of his seat when something landed with a thud next to him. But before he could, his world turned black and a loud, but friendly, voice blasted into his ear. Pulling his hat out of his eyes, he looked wildly back and forth, before seeing Nowi's face peering into his.<p>

"Oh gods Nowi. I thought I was being attacked." His heart was racing, as the initial thought he had was that a Risen had snuck up from behind to do him in.

She giggled, not at all phased. "A sneak attack! But I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

Brushing himself off, Ricken hopped off the log. "Don't mention it. But what brings you out here?" He was a fair ways from the camp. "And I was sure no one followed me when I left."

Getting up herself, Nowi rocked on her heels, before pulling out a dragonstone, and waving it at Ricken. "I can fly, remember? Just out and about when I saw you." Leaning her head to one side, she kept the smile on her face. "Not that you mind the company, right?"

"Of course not. It's always nice having you around." And he really did mean it. Even though she was by far the oldest in their group, and he the youngest, their dispositions matched each other fairly well. And it was more than once that the two had covered for each other.

If Nowi's smile could get any brighter it did. Grabbing Ricken's hands she whirled him around as she laughed, just happy to be in his company. "Awfully sweet of you." Letting go just as abruptly, she ran off, changing into dragon form and launching herself into the sky. "But I was just making sure you were alright. Talking to birds, who would have thought?"

Launched in one direction, Ricken tried to regain his balance, and managed to fall over. He watched as Nowi rose higher and higher, becoming a spec no larger than the tiny bird that was keeping him company earlier. "What a hurricane."

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><p>AN: Request for DustedWithStars. There was a plot at one point. But I went out for a trip to Little Tokyo and lost the train of thought I was going off of, haha. I guess Nowi was worried that Ricken would take the time to talk to small animals instead of spending time with her? <p>

Anways, as always, thank you for reading and reviewing, and if you'd like to see any other pairs please feel free to leave a request.


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